


summer nights

by shutupnerd



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Exhaustion, Hinakoma - Freeform, Komahina - Freeform, M/M, Summer, heat - Freeform, mentions of self harm, not very cathartic, tiredness, trigger warning, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupnerd/pseuds/shutupnerd
Summary: it is too hot outside, and healing is a suffocating, frustrating process.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	summer nights

**Author's Note:**

> hiya! ideations of self-harm are mentioned in this fic. please click off if this is triggering.

He is so, so tired. Things are changing, things are healing, but the exhaustion has stayed firm. He has reached out to who he is supposed to reach out to, but the email has either been left unread or unresponded to. Hajime wonders if he even really needs therapy, anymore. He has escaped, they have all escaped. Smiles come far more easily. _And yet--_

He is tired, and while he sleeps easier, it is still not quite enough. He is still quiet and hiding within himself. They’re all calling it _trauma._ But they all have it. They are all hurting so very deeply, trying to help each other. (help him, when they are able. But they are rarely able.) More often than not, he is helping them.

_Fuck,_

This isn’t what he wanted to focus on. He wants more than anything, to get better. _Better_ is a foregin concept, because he has always assumed he was fine. Normalcy does tend to guarantee that one would be doing, simply, fine. But it has become clear that he is not fine at all, and has not been for a very, very long time. It grates at him, to lose that title of “okay.” He is _supposed_ to be okay. That’s, like, his whole thing. Even if he isn’t anymore, he’ll still act like he is. He’ll wait until he’s alone to crack in two. Of course, the fear he tries so hard to crush down always manages to come back in the worst ways, at the most inopportune or embarrassing time. It happened this morning, when Kuzuryuu got a little too upset and loud and Hajime had just _fallen_ into the blank-eyed compliance that had let him survive the Kamukura Project. Well, he didn’t survive it. Not really. 

But Kuzuryuu had been fighting with Mioda and it had gotten _too fucking loud_ and he had shoved him and said to _just sit down, Hinata,_ and Hajime had said _yes, doctor,_ without even thinking about it and had just sat down. He realized his mistake later, when the memory came back to him and he saw how there had been utter naked _terror_ in the yakuza’s eyes when he saw him react like that. 

He hadn’t left his house since then. They _knew,_ because he cracked and showed them. It was fucking embarrassing. He can’t get better if he’s too ashamed of himself to show all the broken and restitched parts. But it still sucks, and sucks a _lot,_ to not be doing his best all the time, to admit exactly why he skips around on meals and why Izuru can reliably be counted on to front at least twice a week. Only Komaeda knows that the razor on his bathroom sink began to look appealing a few weeks ago. Maybe more know. Gundham and Sonia had been over at the exact wrong time. Maybe they’d seen what had happened.

He is not there anymore. He is getting better. But still, he is not yet _okay._ It’s a fight he’s struggling not to lose.

Nagito has come home. He finds Hajime, curled up in the corner of the couch. It’s hot. Too hot. But he curls the blanket around him anyway. It’s safer in there, where it’s too warm. Nobody can touch him, even if he wants to be touched. It’s okay. He hasn’t earned it. What he wants and what he deserves are two oh so very different things. Komaeda said it himself, in that funhouse. That he was worthless.  
  
But Nagito didn’t believe that anymore. He took one look at his boyfriend, at the dim light in his eyes that was only beginning to come back, and sat down next to him, joining him under the too-hot blanket. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk.”

He turns on the TV, mindless white noise. Then a fan. He should probably make them dinner, or talk to him about it, but Hajime can’t talk. Even though he can’t talk, he needs to make it up to Nagito. There are so many unsaid words, still. So many jealousies and insecurities that nobody else knows of. He is not enough. He has never been enough.  
  


Even in someone else’s arms, silent as he is held and loved, he is not enough. He has never been enough. He will never be enough. No matter how much _better_ he gets, this stays the same. 

“Come on, Hajime. Do you want to go to bed?”

No. Yes. He can barely sleep when he’s supposed to. But once he’s there, he can barely get out. If it’s hot here, it’ll be even hotter in bed. He’ll overheat and be dehydrated.  
  
That’s fine by him, if he gets sick he’ll finally have a reason to not work without feeling guilty. Guilt tears him apart, makes him ache. He hates it, staves it off any way he can. Nagito wrapped the blanket around his shoulders as he led him to the bedroom. He is too hot. 

He fell into bed without much ceremony. Nagito quietly tucked him in, whispering words of _rest, Hajime. I love you so much._  
 _  
Rest, Hajime. We need you at your best tomorrow._

_Please return to your rooms and relax. Let the sound of the ocean gently rock you to sleep. Goodniiiiiight…………._

He hated being told to rest. If anything, it made him more upset. 

But he never said anything, not until it was far too late and he was alone and clawed at the sheets so he wouldn’t claw at his skin (people would notice, and once he started he wouldn’t be able to stop). It was too hot, and he couldn’t sleep.

It was too hot, and the sobs evaporated in his throat. They were useless, anyway.

He was getting better. There was no need to cry anymore.

There should have been no need to cry anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> yeah <3


End file.
